Determination Alone
by Brochelle
Summary: Thel 'Vadam reflects on the relationship of his two companions as they prepare to fight on Halo 04b's surface. Halo 3, post Cortana level.


"—And ma'am? It's good to have you back."

There was a click of metal from the cockpit as the Spartan shifted in the pilot's seat. The helmet looked sideways, his golden visor catching the light of the Ark outside the viewscreen and flashing brilliantly. The hologram of a shapely woman, standing atop the dashboard holotank, turned to meet the amber gaze.

The video connection with the sergeant cut out with a fizzle and a hiss, going unnoticed as the soldier and machine shared a glance for the slightest of seconds. As the unfinished Halo ring started to fill the viewscreen, they looked away from each other — though the Spartan's gaze lingered for a moment longer.

The sound of the Pelican's powerful engines settled into the silence with surprising familiarity. It was a new familiarity to him, founded in the trials of war; though it had only been a few weeks since he joined the fight with the humans, Thel 'Vadam had quickly adjusted to the blunt and barbaric nature of their style of warfare; from the unbridled roar of a dropship's thrusters, to the harsh rattling of their semi-automatic weapons. Like many of the human Marines, Thel had learned to hope for the machine-gunfire that heralded the arrival of a Pelican, rather than curse it.

And after escaping the Flood-infested hellhole that was _High Charity_, the sound of the Pelican's engines was very welcome indeed. He had only just begun to forget the stench of that place — of rot, of stagnant water, of an evil which he feared on a most instinctual and basic level. It was quickly being replaced with the sharp stink of heating metal as the dropship began its descent through the Halo's atmosphere. Even _that _stink, that ignored side-affect as they teased death by explosive decompression, was welcome.

"Minor hull breach detected," came a feminine voice from the cockpit. "We might have to make a more... theatrical entrance."

Thel glanced up, meeting the eyes of the AI's hologram. She turned away from him again and fell silent. Undoubtedly the Spartan already knew the state of the Pelican; the construct had said it for his benefit alone.

Thel found that the only thing out of place on the dropship was the silence of its crew. The Spartan's silence was not, in itself, odd; he had learned long ago that the soldier was stoic in the harshest extremes. The construct, on the other hand, was surprisingly different. In the few moments he had spent with the AI, Thel had experienced a level of friendliness and humor that was so polar opposite of the Spartan's character that he had been confused that the pair even knew each other.

But_ her _silence was of a different worth; especially since she had seen fit to maintain her hologram, even though all she was doing was "standing" there beside the Chief and "looking" out the window. Occasionally she glanced at the Chief, and their gazes met, before splitting again as they focused on their own thoughts.

When Sergeant Avery Johnson had told Thel that the Master Chief had plans to go to _High Charity_ alone, he had felt the urge to laugh. It had seemed — and in reality, it _was_ — a needlessly foolish mission. The ship would be filled to the brim with the Flood: the reanimated soldiers that existed to serve the Gravemind, whose only tactic was to throw his soldiers by the hundreds into the face of the enemy until they, too, succumbed to the sickness. He could only imagine the horrors that could exist in a moon-sized spaceship populated solely by the corpses of the thousands of civilians that had once lived there. He had _glimpsed _such horrors when he arrived to give back-up for the Chief as he escaped the exploding ship. Half-decomposed human and Covenant soldiers, the remains of their armor sunken into their rotted flesh until it was _part _of them, running around in packs as if their previous animosity had been completely discarded when the parasite had taken them for its own. Massive, lumbering, mobile tanks of flesh, with spikes of bone matted together with flesh acting as arms and weapons both, emerged from hidden hallways, and emitted low, warbling growls as they sighted upon the two warriors. The entire ship rumbled with distant explosions and threatened imminent collapse with every shudder; machinery, once hidden by Flood flesh, sparked and exploded in arbitrary locations, throwing chunks of sizzling gore in all directions.

They had barely managed to escape with their lives. Even now, Thel was convinced there would have been a better way to activate the ring.

But no.

"He made a promise," Johnson had told him. He spoke resolutely, firmly, silently daring Thel to try and undermine the Chief's justification for the suicide mission. "I ain't gonna try and stop him, and I don't suggest you try, either. Unless you feel like knowing what it's like to eat a rifle stock."

So Thel provided a small aircraft for the Spartan to pilot into _High Charity_, and made a promise of his own: he would be waiting to provide cover when the Spartan had finished his job. He didn't think he would ever be able to understand what drove the Spartan to make such a risky journey through the downed spaceship to retrieve his AI - or what had given him the strength to brave an army of thousands, alone, and find a machine that might already be broken beyond repair.

Almost on cue, the hologram turned, hands on hips, and looked up at the Spartan, who glanced at her and said nothing. Thel realized that the two were likely conversing in private, over a communications link he was not privy to.

The screen grew white as they dove into the snow storm, and the engines began to rattle ominously. Vertigo developed in Thel's stomach as the dropship tilted at a new angle and gained momentum. The Sangheili warrior looked to the cockpit and waited for any signal from the pair, but there was only silence. After a few moments of the Pelican shaking under the stress caused by its own velocity, the Spartan slipped out of the chair's straps and stood beside the holotank, towering over the construct's avatar. They exchanged a glance, and the construct disappeared from view.

Suddenly the dropship rocked, forcing Thel from his chair and into the far wall, where he stopped himself from face-planting by twisting and using his shoulder to pillow the fall. He looked up in time to see the Spartan reaching quickly — fumbling? — for the holotank, retrieving the small chip from its base and slotting it into the back of his helmet. Then, with the swiftness of a hunter looking for prey, the helmet was up, and the golden visor staring at him.

The Spartan made his way for the Pelican's hatch, soundlessly moving past Thel and walking with a confidence that denied the Pelican's violent shivering. He punched a button and there was a hiss of hydraulics as the hatch began to open.

"Hold on," the Spartan said, his gravelly voice echoing over Thel's armor's comms. The armored soldier turned his head slightly, fixing him with a sideways stare that managed to be lifeless and intense at the same time, and nodded.

Thel stared back and searched for the confidence. He searched for the unbridled power he had witnessed emanating from the Spartan as he came sprinting out of a tunnel of Flood biomass, shotgun booming in his hands, his AI companion safely stored in his armor. He didn't find that life; the ferocity that existed in the aftermath of a job fueled by sheer determination was absent. Perhaps it was just the frigid air that was filling the cargo hold as the hatch opened fully. Perhaps it was the monotone world outside that suddenly drained the Spartan of that apparent life; turned the olive green of his battered armor into grey, drained the amber visor of its inherent fierceness.

The helmet turned away from him, the Spartan shifting his focus to the snow storm beyond. A snowbank suddenly appeared in explosive detail, and Thel braced himself for their crash landing. The Spartan remained still, an unmovable force against the inevitable.


End file.
